Harry Potter and the Oxymoron
by twist-the-line
Summary: Crack!fic. I suck at summaries, but I'll love you forever if you review.


**Title: **Harry Potter and the Oxymoron

**Summary: **Harry Draco fantasy created by my twisted mind.

**Rating: **M? I dunno.

**Disclaimer: **Any references to characters living or dead is intentional, dumbarse. I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would be hysterically rich and famous.

This fic was inspired by my good friend Mel and is dedicated to the eternally enigmatic Iggy. Its not love………

I feel pretty. Oh so pretty. I feel pretty, and witty, and gaaaaaaaaay!

_Westside story_

It was a dark and stormy night (because when such a depressingly angstyly tragically SAD thing happens to one of our heroes, the weather must reflect on that. Also, it adds dramatic tension to an already dramatically tense situation.) and Harry Potter was depressed.

Why would the Boy Who Lived To Screw Draco Malfoy/Defeat Voldemort/Play Professional Quidditch/Become A Male Model/Marry Ginny…… ok, lets just stop there…. be depressed?

Fucked if I know.

But yes, the point is that Harry was depressed. And sitting in the Astronomy tower, which was strangely empty of the usual hoards of snogging, sexually repressed teenagers.

Yes, as empty as a graveyard. As empty as the Hogwarts kitchen after a visit from Hagrid and Maxime on a midnight rendezvous doing god-knows what across the bread table…….ok, lets just stop there.

Harry had changed significantly over his summer break, you know. No longer small and weedy he had muscles in all the right places (without appearing overly buff), had grown a foot and a half (with not a hint of stretchmarks) and managed to tame his hair into that careless look that drove people wild. Or Wilde, if you are a slasher like me wink wink nudge nudge

Yup, Harry had sex appeal, in bucketloads. Hagrid-sized bucketloads. Buckbeak feeding trough sized bucketlaods. Grawp bedpan sized……..ok, lets just stop there.

So why was he depressed? Well, there was a very very very very VERY serious problem. Harry had just discovered the world of Fan Fiction. Over the summer holidays when he had nothing to do except work on his tan (which I refuse to let him do because pale Harry is hotter than olive Harry) he did what many of us have done in moments of sheer desperation.

The Boy Who Lived googled himself.

Well, that's not too bad, you say. So Harry read a few fluffy fics about his life with Ginny? Tom Cruise fans have been known to write weirder things……..

But that's not the case, you see. Poor Harry stumbled onto an online slash community that opened his eyes to all the exciting possibilities that Hogwarts held.

So, basically, Harry was depressed about not getting ANY for the first six years of his schooling.

Back to the tower……. Harry lay pressed against the cold stone wall mulling over all that he had discovered over the Summer. This, coupled with his massively significant physical changes and the realisation that whilst he DID have to clean the Durseleys' house, wearing the flowers apron was not necessary……….caused The Boy Who Lived to conclude that he was, in fact, gay.

Harry flinched as the united howls of misery emitted from all the Harry/Ginny and Harry/Female Character shippers transcended the muggle world and penetrated the wizarding world. A second later the slashers let out a shriek of glee, and the equilibrium was restored.

Suddenly, a door slammed open and Draco Malfoy stalked/prowled/glided aristocratically into the room (which was still strangely empty, remember) and Harry was struck by how…….uh, aristocratic? the blonde/silver haired boy/guy/man was. (why the , you ask? Well, this is a SLASH fic, afterall. Ha Ha, I amuse myself sometimes)

Still, Malfoy continued to stalk/prowl/glide across to the window, not spotting Harry's form crumpled in the corner. Rejection hurts, dude.

It then struck Harry that Draco was BEAUTIFUL. As beautiful as a flower in springtime, or a Brazilian porn star or a……..ok, lets just stop there.

Harry stood up and moved towards Malfoy, touching his shoulder lightly and Draco turned. It was then that Harry noticed his aristocratically beautiful face was streaked with tears, making his silver eyes seem even more molten.

"Don't look at me" Malfoy said, in what was to become the first line of character dialogue in this pathetic fiction.

Predictably, Harry ignored this request. He also rejected the notion of attempting to impart some form of sympathy on Dra….oh, MALFOY, because as an author I suck at sympathetic dialogue.

Malfoy paused to swipe at his face, removing all evidence of his previous breakdown, being neither red nor blotchy because these are not good looks for a Malfoy..

"What, Kneazel got your tounge?" Dra…..MALFOY said in a lame attempt to mesh muggle and wizarding cultures together in a rather ironic way.

'Nah, just feeling a bit confused at the moment" Harry said, his voice slightly rusty from lack of use over the last few pages.

"Confused, isn't that your permanent state of mind?" Draco said with venom in his voice……… rather weak venom, as I suck at writing witty Draco moments. Oh, sorry, witty MALFOY moments.

"Yeah, it is…..er……wait…..no!...FUCK YOU MALFOY!" Harry said, inarticulately. (Now this, I can write.)

"Oh, I bet you would love to" Draco said, adherering the the usual clichés observed at this point in any good slashy fic.

"Wha……what did you say?" Harry asked in shock.

"Nevermind" Draco replied, because the future length of this fic depends on Harry missing some vital clue early on in the story. That and the potion/miracle cure/curse discussed in Snape's class that holds the key to saving the entire wizarding world.

Right on cue, Snape burst in. Unlike in many situations, this Snape remained a sallow skinned hook nosed greasy GIT. His loss.

"Draco, you forgot to collect your assignment on Willowshirk Potion, a magical substance that can protect the drinker from a huge array of potentially dangerous curses, a potion that quadruples in strength if two people in love drink it simultaneously!" Snape said, giving the potion the appropriate introduction. (Ok, forget that little fact now and later in the story you can marvel at how my ability to place seemingly random clues throughout the text rivals JK herself)

"Yes, it would appear so" drawled Draco.

Suddenly, Crack! Bang! FIZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! The characters are transported to the great hall and this story takes an entirely different turn, because as far as subtly changing settings/directing stories go, I suck (hey, if wizards can pull rabbits out of hats, I can pull a few plot cheats out of my ass)

Harry blinks (I can also change the tense) and shakes his bright red hair……..ok, lets just stop there.

Harry blinked and shook his raven black hair, reassessing his depressive feelings and deciding that he was still depressed. No surprise there.

Suddenly, a hunchbacked figure with hideously course and unstyled hair trudged (yes, TRUDGED) over to the table, dumping a pile of random and seemingly useless books over Harry's breakfast (Note You all should glance at the book on Willowshirk Potion, but quickly forget that you saw it)

Yes, where were we? Oh right, the arrival of the other two thirds of Gryffindors finest.

Ron Weasley walked lankily over, his abnormally large feet and abnormally large nose and abnormally large amount of zits and ugliness causing Harry to become slightly Bulimic. Let it be known that that was ALL that was abnormally large about Ron.

"Harry! Why are you so depressed?" Ron boomed in the blatantly hetro and undesirable way that had become his trademark throughout the writings of many a fangirl.

"Oh….. er……um…..uh…… I DON'T NOW!" Harry shouted at Ron, causing all the students eating breakfast in the Great Hall to turn and face him with looks of shock plastered onto their appropriately multicultural faces.

Dean Thomas, Cho Chang and Seamus Finnegan gasped louder than the rest, to emphasise the multicultural nature of this little tale. Blaise Zabini also gave a little squeak, making the gender confused reader feel right at home and comforted in the fact that they are in no way, alone.

Hagrid stood up, causing the great table (staff table? For the life of me, I cannot remember if this table has a special name) to tip over, stepping on Flitwick in the process.

"Oh dear…." The ever-practical Hermione said in worried tones. "No dwarves in Hogwarts anymore, the discrimination councils gonna give us hell!"

As Hagrid peeled remains of Flitwick off his abnormally large foot and threw them aside, all occupants of the Hall looked down, biting their lips to refrain from making any remarks that would get them in deeper shit with the authorities.

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy appeared at Harry's side, because it has been exactly 400 words since he was last mentioned. (whoot for word count)

"Potter" He spat in a way that would only be attractive on the face of a Malfoy.

"Can I have a word in private?"

Harry nodded, scowling at Ron and Hermione as he stood up, which was a rather pointless gesture as they were now snogging like …….like…….like……. what the hell snogs, anyway?

Harry followed Draco closely, but not TOO closely as he was unsure of the other boy's intentions/sexuality. Draco tossed back his nicely scented hair, put his hands into his designer leather pants that clung to all the right places and flounced along, leaving a confused and not-too-bright Harry trailing behind.

A/N: Like it so far? I wrote it over the period of about 2 hours last night and didn't get the chance to finish…….As soon as I get reviews I shall post the rest, so REVIEW NOW!

And I'm not one of those awful authors (alliteration, awesome!) that posts a chapter then never ever updates. That's just rude.

Why is it called Harry Potter and the Oxymoron, I hear you say? I have not the faintest clue.


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